


Working Overtime

by t-hy-lla (rivenjolras)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy days, M/M, McCoy is paying his way through college the old-fashioned way, Slow Build, Stripper AU, bones is subtle, jim is so patient, just kidding neither are true
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9195017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivenjolras/pseuds/t-hy-lla
Summary: Leonard Horatio McCoy works nights at a strip club across town. It pays well enough, and luckily his job is far enough away where no one who would recognize him walks in. Until Jim does just that.





	1. Working Hard Or Hardly Working?

**Author's Note:**

> _Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work._ \- Aristotle, who was an exotic dancer, probably

    This wasn’t supposed to happen.

    The bass boomed and thumped through the club, and Leonard could feel the vibrations as he gripped the edge of his makeup station. The only thing that kept him from running out the back exit was the fact that his next tuition payment was coming up pretty damn soon, and he still had to eat. If Jim knew how he was in dire straits, he would always help Leonard without him even having to ask. But that was the crux of the problem- he did not want nor fucking _need_ Jim to know about this.

    Yet sitting out in the lounge, staring at the dancers over a drink, was Jim. When Leonard had gone to use the restroom closest to the stage, he caught a glimpse of the blonde’s unmistakable profile. Of course, Jim wore his red Starfleet Academy uniform, completely shameless as usual. Perhaps that was to make him stand out amongst the other patrons. When he looked again, Jim had been looking to his left, speaking to a dark-haired woman who was much too close. He stared until Jim threw his head back in laughter and wrapped his arm around her shoulders until they were pressed together. Leonard felt nauseous.

    Leonard had about half an hour to get ready before his song would come up. There was no way for him to delay it- the DJ was operating in a booth that was inaccessible from backstage. It wasn’t like Leonard was some special feature or would be missed if he bolted, but his professional pride wouldn’t allow that. _Damn_.

    The sound of laughter and clack-clack of heels brought him out of his daze. A beautiful redheaded human he wasn’t sure the name of- it could be Anna, or maybe Sarah- touched his shoulder as she walked past. She said something, but Leonard couldn’t hear her. It was likely something about luck, or a light joke. He watched her dumbly as she ascended the side stairs to the stage. She wore a lot of finery, a blazing red and gold corset, a lacy skirt that clearly was intended to come off, and an ornate mask with black and red feathers. Leonard let go of the stand he was gripping and straightened. A mask- it would offer at least a bit of concealment.

    Most of the dancers were already on the floor or finishing up for the night. He didn’t know any of them well enough to ask to borrow anything. He had his own “mask” leftover from Halloween, but it comprised only of a black strip around his eyes and some ribbon. He’d done a routine as boy-wonder Robin for the holiday, and earned both uproarious laughter and great tips. He pulled the mask out of a drawer. He put it on and blinked back at his reflection. Jim wouldn’t be fooled for a second if he got too close. But, with only about ten minutes to get ready, it would have to do.

    Leonard walked up to the stairs waiting for his cue, buttoning up the last of his vest. He wasn’t a stripper per say- most of his appeal was in his dancing skills and the way he moved his body- but since this was that kind of club, some clothes did need to come off eventually.

    He didn’t resent it- he never felt shy about his body, and he wasn’t so backwards that this sort of expression of his sexuality made him ashamed. He had to stop thinking of Jim sitting out there, dissecting him and his performance. It’s one thing to perform for strangers, yet another animal entirely to perform for someone you live with. He took three deep breaths and calmed his mind. Leonard Horatio McCoy could be accused of many things- but he would never be accused of being bad at his job.

    The first couple notes of the introduction to his song signaled him. He climbed the steps confidently, and strode across the stage to the middle. He hammed it up, as usual, feeling more patrons looking towards him as he went. He mouthed the words to the sultry song, calculated exactly to titillate certain types of customers. Leonard had the stage to himself this time, but other dancers had small platforms with poles throughout the club. It was very much a competition. He needed to win.

    With his vest finally shed and his chest on display, he concentrated on the most physically demanding part of his performance- the pole dancing. In front, sitting back in a lounge chair, was Jim. He was most certainly paying attention now. _Don’t think_. Leonard chided himself. _This is your job_. He spent most of the rest of the performance looking everywhere but directly at Jim. A few human women and a couple stray Andorians had crowded in the front, and he cocked a hip so that a few adventurous ones could put money directly into the waistband of his shorts. He strayed from the edge back to his pole for his final sequence, the show-stopper.

    Leonard gripped the pole as high as he could from the side and wrapped his legs expertly around it, then pulled himself up higher. Once he had his desired height, he let go of the pole with his hands, and craned his upper half backwards until his body was parallel to the floor. He reached out towards the audience- to Jim- and winked. It was then that he finally allowed himself to see his best friend’s expression. Sometime during the performance, Jim had leaned all the way forward in his seat. The woman who was by his side earlier was gone. As a light passed over Jim’s face, Leonard saw his eyes, clear and focused, and Jim’s mouth slightly slack. He had no time to contemplate whether it was due to desire or realization. He brought his right arm fluidly to grip the pole, angled his legs so that only his back leg was actually anchored to it, then extended the other. He forced himself to spin with his leg and left arm completely straight. His thighs and stomach quivered minutely with the strain. Nothing customers could detect, but certainly something he would feel after the performance. Leonard pulled himself up fully, hooked his front leg around the pole, and slid all the way down for the climax.

    When the music stopped briefly and the DJ spoke into the microphone announcing his exit, Leonard felt a shortness of breath not caused by the physical exertion. He blindly stared out into the crowd, and once the DJ stopped, he picked up whatever was thrown on stage while he was occupied and left.

    Once he was out of sight of the club’s patrons, he sat heavily in his chair. His mind raced- did Jim know? He shook slightly with the pent up anxiety he had not allowed himself to feel during the performance. How would he face Jim ever again? He’d worked here for at least three semesters, and Jim had not once stepped foot into this particular establishment before. What brought him tonight? Why hadn’t Jim come on a night he wasn’t working?

    As Leonard changed into his street clothes, he made up his mind. No, Jim would not have looked at him so blatantly and lustfully if he had known it was him. Leonard didn’t even know why Jim chose to watch in the first place- he hadn’t ever in the time he’d known him spared more than a glance at male performers before heading directly to women and feminine-looking members of exotic races. Leonard had attended many nights out with Jim, and was certain that if Jim were so inclined towards males, that he wouldn’t even think to hide it from him.

    Jim wasn’t back yet when Leonard arrived at their dorm room. Blearily, he realized Jim was likely still back at the club- it remained open long into the night, after all. It’s not like Jim recognized him and came back to confront him. He let out a sigh and kicked his bag under the bed. He wiggled out of his jeans and fell face-first into his pillows. Jim wasn’t here, he could deal with this shit in the morning. When Jim finally came back, he didn’t even stir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some research and couldn't for the life of me figure out how to describe the move I wanted Bones to do. Also, I wanted to get into the "how is there still money that can be shoved into sexy undies" and had a long explanation about vouchers that were turned in for Fed. credits, but then I realized I can do whatever I want. No one can stop me. 
> 
> Anyways, disclaimer: I am not a stripper/dancer, and I have nothing but awe and respect for any/all who work in the profession. You will see no sex-shaming in this fic nor decrying of your work.
> 
> As usual, thanks to my girlfriend/irl Bones for reading and giving her opinions and feedback.


	2. Jimothy..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones only pulls out the " _James_ " sparingly. This conversation warrants it.

Leonard’s alarm blared way too early, his signal to get his ass out of bed. He spent a solid minute of just blinking and wondered if it truly would be that bad if he lived in a ditch the rest of his life. When he didn’t shut his alarm off, Jim stirred and groaned. “Shut the shit off, Bones. Jesus.”

Leonard reached out blindly to silence the siren from hell, but only succeeded in knocking it onto the floor. He remained immobile, until finally Jim got sick of the noise and padded over in front of his bed and turned it off himself. He stood in his pajama pants, his hands on his hips, with an expression that could only be described as unimpressed. In one swift movement, he pulled off his sleepy roommate’s covers, earning a shriek from him.

“What the fuck, you monster!” Leonard drew his arms around his shoulders, suddenly chilled.

“Nope. You woke me up, now you’ve got to get up too, asshole.” Jim said, although the corners of his mouth twitched as he tried not to grin. He let the comforter fall to the floor before he left him, confident that he wouldn’t fall back into blissful sleep. 

Reluctantly, Leonard pulled himself up into a sitting position and rubbed at his eyes. He caught Jim shrugging off his pajamas shamelessly, with no sign of the sluggishness of just a few moments ago. Had Leonard been more awake, he would have realized he was staring directly at his roommate while he was changing.

Jim pulled on his jeans, then paused stiffly. Without turning, he asked, “See something you like?”, and Leonard didn’t need him to spin around to know the smug grin on his face.

“Wuh?” He replied intelligently. 

Jim turned, laughing, his bare chest heaving. “I said, do you see something you like?”

Finally, Leonard’s brain kicked in. “What? No! No. Nothing. I don’t like you. There’s nothing I like about you.”

“Sure, Bones.” Jim turned back around to retrieve whatever he had decided to wear for the day. He threw his roommate a balled-up sweater, and the other man caught it on reflex. He stared at the sweater in his hand. “Come on. We’re up now, let’s go get coffee. You’re not getting any younger.”

“Fuck you.” Bones replied, also on reflex. His heart beat faster at the ease in which Jim gave him his things. As he pulled it over his head, he smelled Jim’s cologne on the neck of the sweater, and inhaled sharply. Jim had worn this, probably recently. Internally, he chided himself for being so affected by a gesture meant to be friendly. _Get a grip_.

Jim, unknowing of his inner turmoil, grabbed his jacket and swiped a pack of cigarettes off of his desk. This did not go unnoticed. Once he was sure Leonard was going to follow, he strode out the door.

Leonard clambered after him. “You know, I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

Jim didn’t look at him. “Do what?”

Leonard grumbled in irritation. “You know what I’m referring to, you idiot.”

Jim shrugged and put one of them in his mouth as soon as they exited their dorm building. He didn’t break his stride as he fished in his jacket pocket for a lighter. He took a shallow drag once it was burning. “They removed all that awful stuff that used to be in them decades ago.”

Bones smacked Jim’s arm. “That doesn’t mean inhaling smoke is good for you, _James_. I don’t care what are in the damn things now.”

Jim sighed, as if Leonard were the one being unreasonable. “I’m quitting before I become captain. Does that make you happy?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s fine, you’re never happy anyway.”

They stopped outside of the cafeteria, and Jim put his smoke out and pocketed the remainder of it. He didn’t indulge much, the pack was about a month old at this point. It was a stress thing, mainly.

They retrieved their food and sat down without speaking. After a couple bites of his oatmeal and a swig of coffee, Leonard put his spoon down and leaned back, crossing his arms. “So.”

Jim’s head snapped up to look at him. “So?”

“You’re serious.”

“I resent that accusation.” Jim grinned toothily.

“No, Jim.” Leonard looked up to the sky (grey ceiling, close enough) for a moment before returning his gaze to the other man. “About becoming captain. You’re serious.”

Jim stiffened for a second before deliberately relaxing himself. “Yeah. Gotta do something with all this talent.” He smiled softly. “And you will be my chief medical officer.”

“You know neither of us are remotely near-qualified at this point.”

“I can be convincing.”

“Jim.” Bones stressed. “You finish school before I do. Even if that weren’t true, the likelihood that we will get put on the same assignment is very, very small.” He pushed around the oatmeal in his bowl, his mouth set in a grim line. He hated to think about it, but someone had to.

Jim opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off with a stare. He closed his mouth.

“Just, drop it.” Leonard took a deep breath through his nose, and let it go. Being around Jim was painful enough without thinking about when it would inevitably end.

“Okay.” Jim frowned, and suddenly found something interesting in his bacon and eggs.

Leonard stayed silent. He watched Jim pick at his food, and suddenly felt sorry for the kid. “Although…”

“Although...?” The other man repeated warily.

“I don’t trust anyone else to keep track of your long list of issues, kid. If you’re that determined to become Captain someday, I’m sure you would be able to force Starfleet to let me follow you into that dark void.”

Jim wiped his mouth with a napkin to hide the wide grin split across his face. “Well then, Bones.” He balled up the napkin and dropped it on his plate, finished. “I guess I’d better get going, dear. I gotta study if I’m going to make you my doctor someday.” He moved to get up, then paused. “Will I be seeing you at home tonight..?” 

Leonard’s mouth felt dry, not quite sure how to handle the endearment. “Ah… oh… uh, no. No, sorry, I’m working late tonight.”

Jim stared, his expression unreadable. “At the hospital.”

“Yeah.” He tried to keep his face impassive, but he had no idea how he was doing.

Jim’s brow worried for a moment, something flitting across his face, before schooling back into neutrality. He gathered his tray. “Okay. See you when I see you, then.”

“Yeah…” Leonard said to his retreating back, feeling shell-shocked. What was wrong with him? 

He slumped on the table, suddenly exhausted, and it wasn’t even 10 o’clock yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I know where exactly I'm going with this, so buckle in for a wild ride. Also, shoutout to the guy at Dunkins literally standing behind me while I was writing this. Hope you enjoy Star Trek fanfiction, asshole.


	3. You Can Find Me At The Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard thinks perhaps lightning can't strike twice. It totally, totally can. Fuck.

Leonard almost decided on calling in tonight. He wasn’t lying to Jim- he did have a shift at the hospital in the evening. Jim hadn’t been around to see him leave in the early afternoon, nor was he there when he crashed through the door, took the quickest shower known to man, grabbed his ‘other’ work bag hidden under his bed, and left. There was no way for Jim to know he’d be working anywhere but in an examination room.

Tonight was a Friday night, and he couldn’t exactly afford to miss it. On Friday nights there usually was a theme, a kind of kitschy thing that usually meant wearing costumes and being more creative with routines. Tonight was “Classical Music”. As if that broad of a category made any sense here.

He startled when he felt hands on his waist. A feminine, musical laugh greeted him. He looked up into the mirror, and when he saw the familiar face, he relaxed. ”Janice.”

“Hey Len.” She smiled. Her hair was as large as ever. During these themed nights, she often wore her hair down. Tonight, her blonde hair was purposefully fluffed out, brushing her shoulders.

“Hm. Let me guess what you’re doing tonight.” Leonard turned around, taking in her short black dress, and thigh-high boots. He raised his eyebrow. He could guess the time period she was going for, but he wasn’t particularly versed in the icons and music of that decade. “Okay, never mind. Just tell me.”

Janice mock-pouted. “Len. I’m Nancy Sinatra, _obviously_.” She did a pivot and twirl, her hair swinging. She held out her arms at her sides. “You know, These Boots Are Made For Walking?” She raised one of her boots. “See?”

Leonard laughed a little. “Yeah, I see that now. You’ll knock ‘em dead.”

She grinned. “Thanks, Len.” She tilted her head. “What are you thinking of?”

He leaned back against his station and crossed his arms. “I’m don’t even know. It’s been sort of a day.” 

“Oh, I see.” Janice’s brow furrowed. “Well, most of the girls are going for songs from popular music of the late twentieth century. You could go with that.”

“That doesn’t exactly narrow it down, Jan.” He sighed.

“You stop that.” She pushed him playfully, and he uncrossed his arms and grabbed onto the surface behind him for balance. “What about the time you danced to Billy Idol? That wasn’t even a themed night. You were great.”

Leonard raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t _dress_ like him though.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve seen the pictures of you as a teenager. Platinum blonde was a good look.” 

“I was seventeen! That only lasted a month!” He protested.

Janice giggled. “Yes, but… whomever you’ve been avoiding is unlikely to recognize you.”

Leonard blinked, stunned.

She tilted her head again, smirking. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you think you were being subtle?”

He looked up at the ceiling and muttered. “I had hoped.”

“Well, you weren’t.” She said frankly. “With some temporary highlighter, hair gel, and some eyeliner, your own mother wouldn’t recognize you. I can help.”

Leonard smiled softly. “Alright, you’ve convinced me.” 

Ten minutes later, he was no longer Leonard McCoy.

Leonard leaned against a pillar at stage right, waving to Janice-- _Nancy_ \-- as she passed to enter the stage area. His eyes followed her, until they snapped to a completely different blonde, sitting almost diagonally across from him some meters away. His breath caught. He stayed calm, and quickly assessed the situation.

Jim was laying back on a lounge chair, unaccompanied this time. His head moved, as if searching for someone, before settling on Janice on center stage. He leaned forward, most likely to appear attentive (how polite). His hands were clasped in front of him.

Leonard gasped out a breath suddenly, not realizing he had been holding it. No, this was fine. Janice was right. Jim had never seen him look so… wild. Even if he had recognized him the other night, he would never look for him in a crowd dressed like this. Jim watching a male performer was a fluke already, he probably wouldn’t even look twice.

He watched mindlessly during Janice’s performance, waiting for his cue for his own act. It came up before he was really ready, but he stepped out onto the stage anyway. On her way off the platform, Janice winked and mouthed “Good luck!”

Leonard could tell as soon as he started that Jim was staring directly at him. He was determined not to let him get a direct look into his eyes and face, not confident that he wouldn’t hesitate as soon as he saw those baby blues. His skin felt flushed as he peeled off his clothing, and he was sure that it was visible under the lights. His palms felt sweaty, so he kept his actual pole work to a minimum. Safety first, he reasoned.

A glance at the crowd confirmed that his performance wasn’t exactly his most enrapturing, but he supposed it was better for him not to be memorable. Not with a certain someone so close to the stage, after all.

A few women stood directly in front of the platform, whistling and laughing. He smiled charmingly and reached out, allowing them to grasp his arm, and brush their fingers tantalizingly across his skin. This wasn’t a club with a no-touching policy, and he found that he really didn’t mind most nights.

Suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jim approach center-stage. He stiffened, a sense of dread washing over him. The women were delighted to let him through, drunk as they were and gorgeous as he was. Leonard tried to stay calm, determined not to give himself away. Tonight, he was Billy Idol, after all.

Jim leaned on the stage and held out some bills. He smirked, and the ladies around him followed suit. Leonard moved closer to the edge and stamped down his urge to turn tail. He met Jim’s stare expectantly. Given permission, Jim leaned forward and pulled the waistband of his shorts out just enough to tuck the bills in. When he was satisfied, he let his hand trail down Leonard’s thigh before drawing away. On his bare skin, it felt like there were flames left in the simple touch’s wake.

Leonard remained immobile for a moment, completely shaken. Loud whoops broke him out of it, and he resumed his dancing in his normal position on stage. The rest of the performance was uneventful, and when the song was over, he couldn’t make it off stage fast enough. Jim’s eyes followed him as he exited, and he saw the other man start to move in his direction out of the corner of his eye. He sucked in a breath, and calculated the amount of time it would take for Jim to appear round the curtain versus the time it would take Leonard to get out the door. It didn’t look good.

Cursing Jim, this damn club, his _highly unprofessional_ boner, and God, Leonard only stopped to grab his coat and keys before he ran out the door. He startled a few other workers standing outside having a smoke break, but he didn’t care. 

The walk to the subway was humiliating and cold. The hem of his coat only came down to just below where his shorts ended, and his bare legs chilled in the night air. He walked briskly in a daze, his heart still racing, and the hands shoved in his pockets still shaking. Jim wouldn’t be likely to follow, even if he was sure it was him, but he would only feel safe behind the closed door of their shared dorm.

When Leonard finally arrived home, he breathed a sigh of relief. He stripped off his coat and what remained of his outfit, and pulled on some comfortable sleep pants. He rubbed the temporary dye out of his hair with the palms of his hands, too exhausted to shower. His flat, ugly mattress looked like a cloud in heaven as he crawled in. He closed his eyes.

Some time later, he heard Jim shut the door and the sound of Jim unceremoniously kicking off his boots. He groaned and rolled over to greet his asshole roommate. “What the fuck, Jim.” He threw one of his pillows in Jim’s direction. It fell about a foot short of its destination.

Jim grinned, unashamed. “Long day, Bones?”

“Fuck you.”

“That must’ve been a long shift at the hospital, if I can wake you this easily.”

Leonard stiffened. “Yeah. Well, I’ve had a hard time with my sleep schedule.”

“Hm, I’ll bet. Class in the morning, endless hours of work in the evening.” Jim left that ambiguous, which did not go unnoticed by him. “You should really take a break.”

Bones laughed weakly in spite of himself. “I’ll take a break when I’m dead.”

“Probably not even then.” Jim grinned. He didn’t bother to change, down to his t-shirt and boxers. Leonard looked away quickly. 

“Yeah.” His eyes closed of their own accord. He vaguely heard the sounds of Jim enacting his nightly routine before he climbed into bed himself. Leonard finally relaxed, and his chest rose and fell slowly, heavy with sleep.

Jim’s voice cut into his consciousness. “Hey, Bones?”

He turned his face towards the noise and grunted in response. “Yeah?”

“...Nice eyeliner.” Jim yawned. The blankets rustled, signaling his intent to sleep. “‘Night, Bones.”

Leonard didn’t sleep particularly well that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> help

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a stripper/dancer, and I have nothing but awe and respect for any/all who work in the profession. You will see no sex-shaming in this fic nor decrying of your work.
> 
> As usual, thanks to my girlfriend/irl Bones for reading and giving her opinions and feedback.


End file.
